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[color=#ff0000;]Balrog tried the same dodging maneuver again, but with a twist. The second he felt the air and residue smoke move about him, he stepped aside, but his hand shot out, aiming to grab Nick's arm.[/color]

OOC Congrats to Tyler and Krayzikk and goodbye/welcome back whoever's leaving/coming back.Basilisk, is there a chance that Lucia will meet Foreshadow?IC ForeshadowPeter floated home, contemplating the mugging. "Well it's not like anything you haven't seen before," he thought,"Things like that still happen in 2099." Sighing, he eventually reached his temporary residence. Some wealthy landlord-Something Gamble-had rented it to him. Walking in, he slumped down in the armchair and fell asleep.OOC Hellfire members, this ISN'T the house.

OOC: Wow. Can't believe I was actually worried for a second there.Also, on a semi-unrelated note, everyone who's going to participate in the ambush is on the trucks, right?IC: Mayday, FelixI was standing on the deck of the helicarrier, preparing myself and the troops for what was about to transpire. Already, helicopters were being loaded with equipment, and the soldiers would soon follow. Felix approached me, nodding at the copters."So, does this mean we're going to take out those Cold-Bloods?" he asked me."Yes," I replied, "but you will not be participating in the attack. You still haven't received full treatment for your wounds in Rio."Felix sighed, wrapping his hand around his abdomen."Fine," he said, "fine."He threw his hands in the air, as if saying "I give up," and walked back inside.

Huh I just realized something funny, this RP was started on August 13th, its not January 13th, means its the RP's anniversary.

IC: Mimic (X-Manor)

[color=#00ff00;]“It’s okay Christopher,” she said as she lifted his head up with her hand. “You didn’t know,” she added her emerald eyes seeming to sparkle. “What was I like? From your dimension? I always wanted to know.”[/color]

IC: Romulus (Hellfire Trucks)

[color=#0000cd;]Romulus turned to the Hellfire soldiers. Like always they were garbed in sleek black suits with white humanoid masks that had small slits for their mouths eyes and nose. “Be ready men,” he said. “We need to kill them all.”[/color]

IC: Scorcher, NPC Healer, Destruction (Brotherhood Ship)

[color=#ff0000;]Kane stood on the deck of the Brotherhood ship. He’d let his flames die out and looked like an ordinary man for now, an ordinary man who’d taken a mighty beating. Using a combat knife be began to cut the bullets out of his body. He winced from the pain as he flung the blood coated pieces of metal onto the deck. Then he covered his fingers with flame and pressed them to the wounds, willing his own flames to burn him, and they did; cauterizing the wounds.[/color]

[color=#ff0000;]“We need a healer down here!” he said as he looked at many of the injured Brotherhood fighters. The Brotherhood healer came down from speaking to Pietro and began to heal Kane’s other internal injuries along with the injuries of many of the Brotherhood members.[/color]

[color=#696969;]“We got our ***es handed to us,” Caden said to his Brother. “I just hope it wasn’t for nothing.”[/color]

[color=#ff0000;]“It won’t be brother; we have a future waiting for us in Genosha.”[/color]

IC: Feral (X-Manor)

[color=#008080;]John sat down on the steps of the mansion and pulled out his phone before sending a single text. Good luck Cali, I’m going to miss you man. I never had the chance to tell you before you left, but, I proposed to Liliana and she said yes.[/color]

IC WyattOn the operating table, Wyatt was lying face down when suddenly, the world around him blurred and I found himself sitting on a truck surrounded by soldiers. Apparently he had linked to one of the Hellfire mooks instead of Shaw. Oh well, at least he'd be getting front row seats to the fight.

"Oh, I'll be ready," Earl snarled. Despite his exhaustion from his previous stint as Reptilian, he was going with them.

"Those **** SHIELD agents won't know what hit them."

The creature felt many presences around it. So many possible hosts...But there was just one issue. They had all been brainwashed, leaving their minds devoid of the emotion that the creature fed on. If it didn't find someone else to merge with soon, it would starve.

But it wasn't going to let that happen.

OOC: Also, I'm going to be re-writing most of my profiles, just for clarity's sake.

There. And of course, she can't repeat that time travel trick. I'll have her pop in near anyone who is interested.

OOC: Hahahaha. Yes, Otter. You can stop now.

Anyway. Lucia is tentatively approved, but I will be watching her power usage. The weaknesses seem to balance out the power, but it shall be monitored. Also, you will need to PM me with a general list of what creatures could be summoned, and how difficult each one would be.

[color=#00ff00;]“Oh,” she said. “I’m probably dead in your reality.” She said. It was hard to believe that there was more then one dimension out there, all different, but yet all similar. “Well its good you are here, maybe you can help Chris, he’s making some headway in his learning.”[/color]

Soon enough, the trucks reached their destination. Troops poured out of them and formed a straight line in front of the building. Shaw stepped out and looked over his troops. He was clad in light combat gear. He called for attention, and the soldiers gave the resounding cry, awaiting their orders.

"I want defensive positions taken on the inside of the building," Shaw commanded, "find any vantage point you can and hunker down. And remember, every shot is a kill-shot. We're taking no prisoners. Am I understood?"

"SIR, YES SIR!"

"Excellent. Let's go!"

The troops flooded into the building, climbing stairs and getting into position. Earl stood in the lobby, cracking his knuckles.

"Oh, I'm gonna enjoy this."

---

After everything was loaded, I made sure my combat gear was secure, then took my seat next to the helicopter's pilot. I pulled out a radio, and soon my voice was being broadcast to every helicopter on the deck.

"Alright," I said, "we're about to take out the most feared domestic terrorist organization currently in existence. A lot of them are mutants, and all of them are to be considered highly dangerous. Their leader is Earl Greystone, a member of the Hellfire Club. Do not kill him. I want him alive. These people don't mess around. Expect heavy resistance. Davidson, over and out."

There was a click as I placed the radio back in its place.

"Sir, are we cleared for take-off?" the pilot asked me.

"We are clear," I said, "let's move."

---

It didn't take long for the copters to reach the supposed headquarters. As the sound of whirring blades neared the building, Shaw pulled a gas mask out of his belt.

"Masks on!" he shouted, and not a moment too soon.

As the soldiers, including Shaw, pulled their masks over their faces, a tear gas grenade landed in the lobby. It burst, spreading the foul vapor across the room.

The soldiers stood perfectly still, almost blending in with the shadows of the unlit building. Shaw couldn't help but grin underneath his mask. SHIELD had no idea what was coming. The doors burst open, and immediately, the entrance was showered with gunfire from above, taking down the first wave of SHIELD troops.

WIndows shattered across all sides of the building, allowing more troops inside. In seconds, the entire place was filled with the sounds of gunfire as soldiers of both the Club and SHIELD hit the ground, their blood staining the wood flooring.

---

After most of the shooting had been diverted away from the entrance, I made my way inside, firing a few rounds from my revolver at the Cold-Blood troops.

"How did they know we were coming?" I screamed in frustration. Two more shots downed two more terrorists and emptied the magazine. I pulled out six more rounds and loaded them into the gun as quickly as I could, then took cover behind a cabinet.

Wyatt silently cheered as the fighting began. I saw the agent that had interrogated me go into the building. He started to subtly influence the odds in favor of the Hellfire soldiers. Some of the SHIELD soldiers started to suffer from weapon malfunctions...

[color=#2f4f4f;]In his own private condominium in the Upper East side, Colonel Jace Pulliam was getting reacquainted with an old friend.[/color]

[color=#2f4f4f;]He'd last wielded a sword for the purposes of combat when he'd been brevetted up in the Civil War; now in his dominant hand he wielded a custom-made flamberge and watched as a series of jury-rigged punching bags came at him from all sides, sliding on old, rusty chains through cobwebbed metal that twisted and turned randomly, giving Jace no concept of what punching bags were coming from anywhere.[/color]

[color=#2f4f4f;]It was nice, in a way: to not be able to predict an opponent again. Just like old times. Man coming from the northeast? Stab into the right collarbone and twist before kicking to the ground. Leave for dead, spin around, skewer punching bag from behind.[/color]

Suddenly....space bent. There was really no other way to put it. The human mind wasn't equipped to truly understand time, so it rendered what was happening visually. Part of the wall seemed to bend, break and ressemble itself into random shapes. Suddenly it seemed to...fall into itself for lack of a better word, leaving only a hole of pure time in it's place. The human visual senses would render this as a gaping hole. In less then a second however, it was over. The wall had returned to normal. There was no evidence the disturbance had ever taken place. Minus one important detail.

There was now a young women, dressed in the roman fashion laying facedown on the floor. Evidently out cold by all indications. Scattered about her were a few sets of bound scrolls and casual examination would reveal any number of different langauges written upon it. The women herself would appear quite out of sorts. He robes were a mess and overall, she looked liked she had fallen a great distance but had not impacted the ground. Her hair was a mess, her brooch barely hanging onto a shred of cloth and her shawl had more or less been converted into a rather long scarf.

Needless to say. Things had just gotten interesting.

0

"Shall this great kingdom, that has survived, whole and entire, the Danish depredations, the Scottish inroads, and the Norman conquest; that has stood the threatened invasion of the Spanish Armada, now fall prostrate before the House of Bourbon? Surely, my Lords, this nation is no longer what it was! Shall a people, that seventeen years ago was the terror of the world, now stoop so low as to tell its ancient inveterate enemy, take all we have, only give us peace? It is impossible! ...My Lords, any state is better than despair. Let us at least make one effort; and if we must fall, let us fall like men!"

-William Pitt the Elder, before suffering a fatal stroke on the floor of the House of Lords.

OOC: This is...interesting. I have been hearing what has been going through my brother only, so I am not sure exactly what happened. I am happy, however, that this was sorted out and that many people have returned.

IC: Winter

Winter turned away from Liam and ran as far away as she could from the mansion.

IC: Fauna

After her howl, Fauna was still depressed, but was now bored too. She resumed her human form and started to walk towards the mansion, wide awake.

[font="'courier new', courier, monospace;"]So I'd like to join in on this insanity.[/font]

[font="'courier new', courier, monospace;"]Name: Kenneth Wallace.Codename: None.Age: 28.Gender: Male.Faction: None at this time.Power(S): Technically he's a sorcerer, and thus capable of great feats, but in reality his skillset is limited. His primarily skill set is shapeshifting, derived from his books and studies. Because of general lack of know-how and experience though, it tends to be rather limited. To start with, he can only change animate objects (as in, no shapeshifting rocks). Going on from there, he can't make absolutely drastic changes. To give an example, he can turn a person into a bear, but not into a newt. A further limitation is that his shapeshifting only lasts for 4 hours; afterwards, there's a 4 hour cooldown on his subject/victim. He can shapeshift others, but only with direct physical contact.Appearance: A well built man in his late twenties, he's what you'd expect out of someone who has to carry around books all day. Fit, though not exceptionally buff. He's got those Scottish looks, with well kept two inch hair and blue eyes. He stands at the average height of his time at 5'8".Weapons: Carries a quarterstaff and short sword, the quarterstaff being the one he's received the most training in.Skills: He's a fairly good expert at the art of smacking people with a very large stick, also known as a quarterstaff. Also, due to his history, he's a pretty good academic, being knowledgable in the limited sciences of his time.Personality: Somewhat aloof and apathetic, though has his fair share of silly and serious moments.Weakness: The fact that he's ultimately a scribe that can do fancy magic tricks, and is a newcomer to this day and age. He's not a warrior, he's a guy you tell to write letters for you.Bio: Kenneth began his life as a young farm boy in Northern Scotland, circa ~1000 AD, tending to those all important sheep and such. Thankfully for him, his life wasn't doomed to this boring existence, as one day a scholar was traveling through the local village and found the young farm boy to be a surprisingly good apprentice. After some paperwork and money was thrown about Kenneth was off to the exciting world of a scholar.[/font]

[font="'courier new', courier, monospace;"]This, of course, ended with him finding out how existence could get even more dull and boring. The next fifteen years of his life was punctuated with writing an awful lot of letters and working on his penmanship. Along the way of course he was taught about the universe and its inner-workings, to the best understanding of that day. After those dull years his life finally started to look up though. His teacher finally revealed to him after deeming him worthy that magic was indeed a physical construct in the world, and gave him a few pieces of parchment to work off of. In the next three years he became skilled in his chosen art, shapeshifting, though he knew that he had quite a ways to go.[/font]

[font="'courier new', courier, monospace;"]The events that bring him to our modern day are surprisingly simple. The Vikings were invading and marauding, and his master was killed while out purchasing some supplies. While not precisely enraged, this rather deeply wounded Kenneth, so he sought for months to find a way to stop the Vikings with magic. He finally came across a powerful spell in his master's books, and attempted to use it on a beach as the Viking ships approached one day. This ended terribly for the man, because he had no idea what he was doing. This particular spell though interacted with a spell of another, a sorceress from a time older than his. They merged, tossing him into the panic in space-time she had caused, and got spat out into this strange and unfamiliar world.[/font]

"In short, my English Lit friend, living in a mental world of absolute rights and wrongs, may be imagining that because all theories are wrong, the earth may be thought spherical now, but cubical next century, and a hollow icosahedron the next, and a doughnut shape the one after." -Isaac Asimov, responding to a letter he had received saying that scientific certainty was false, The Relativity of Wrong

OOC: Kenneth Wallace has my approval. Of course, he'll require another staff approval before you can use him.

IC: Shaw, Mayday

Shaw felt a bullet impact his skull, right below his temple. It was robbed of its kinetic energy the instant it made contact with him, simply falling to the ground at its target's feet. Shaw turned his head to glare through the lenses of his mask at the shooter.

"That was rude," he remarked, closing the distance between himself and the SHIELD trooper relatively quickly, and the surprised soldier let his fear get the best of him, unloading an entire magazine to no avail.

One solid punch to the gut sent all of the energy from the bullets straight into the soldier, knocking him into the air and through a wall, quite likely killing him. Shaw cracked his neck.

"It's been far too long since I've done that."

---

I briefly popped up from my cover to fire at a soldier who was getting too close for comfort. He tumbled backwards, but something was off. Rather than blood erupting from his chest, as would be expected, something black and gooey splattered the wall. But that's not where the strangeness ended. The liquid slid along the wall, as if by its own accord, then plopped to the floor and headed straight for none other than yours truly.

I panicked, sending round after round into the writhing creature, but before I knew it, it was crawling up my leg. In a matter of seconds it had spread across my entire body, consuming and enveloping me...

And then suddenly, it was not just me. It was us. Memories flooded our mind...

We had been deprived of a reasonable host for far too long. Parker. Brock. Gargan. Thompson.

One by one, they had all died, leaving us alone and abandoned. Seventeen years, spent either cold and starved, or in some sort of container, kept preserved or barely fed. Stupid humans. They had no idea who we truly were. Well, it was time to rectify that.

Our body twisted and grew, Our jawline extending into a grotesque maw of razor-sharp teeth complimented with a long, slimy tongue. Our eyes were each adorned with a white crest, mimicking the costume of our first host. And, to top it all off, that familiar white spider logo spread across our chest.

Our muscles rippled and expanded, recreating the silhouette that had struck fear into that neglectful fool Parker for years.

OOC: Wallace seems good to me except that 48 hours can last a very long time in this game, I’m not sure how people would like being stuck as bear for days in the RP, perhaps a few hours instead?

IC: Mimic (X-Manor)

[color=#00ff00;]“I can try,” she said looking at Christopher. “But lately he hasn’t wanted to borrow my memories and without them I doubt he will understand most of what I say.”[/color]

IC: Romulus (Building)

[color=#0000cd;]“As will I,” Romulus grinned next to Earl. “SHIELD won’t know what hit them.” He grinned. He’d pulled on his mask as the gas was activated. He ran forward as the troops burst into the warehouse. He felt rounds penetrate his flesh burying themselves in his body. He ignored the pain and kicked one of the SHIELD soldier’s in the chest before slashing his claws across his face; cutting through most of it and splattering his blood against the wall.[/color]

IC: Invictus (Outside, X-Manor)

[color=#ff8c00;]Liam sighed and followed Winter; “You really shouldn’t go off on your own, it’s a good way to get killed.”[/color]

OOC: Kenneth Wallace looks good, but like Flex said it 48 hours is a tad too long, 1-3 hours would work better I'd think. I'd say approved with that change. Though naturally you can make the cooldown less as well.

Anyway yes I've decided not to leave after all, apparently this was decided for me but it's true none-the-less! =P My biggest issues for the moment have been removed so I'll give this rp another shot.

[color=#daa520;]IC: Howard - USMARIID -[/color]

[color=#b22222;]Howard contiuned to brawl the oncoming zombies, his suit gave him superior strength, speed, and durability than the zombies, but he was still outnumbered. The zombies began to work together and started to latch onto any part of his armor they could, trying to pull him down. Their combined might was enough to bring him to one knee. [/color]

[color=#b22222;]"​Okay...time for a new plan.... JARVIS, charge the unibeam...."[/color]

"But sir that would drain the suit's power by..."

[color=#b22222;]"30% I know, just do it." Howard answered back sharply, trying to shake the zombies off of him. I have to make this attack count...[/color]

[color=#b22222;]The arc reactor began to hum loudly, flickering a bit on Howard's chest. And then came the fireshow....a huge blast of energy shot out from his chest, either simply incarnating the zombies or blasting them far away. But the zombies were not the only thing in the line of fire..no...he'd aimed it at Corpse, or at least in his general direction, zombies tugging hindered accuracy. The giant repulsor blast was heading straight for him at a nearly impossible to follow speed. [/color]

OOC: Rather than respond in a rather improbable or unfair manner in character, I'll simply ask if there's another way the course of action I am to respond to can be taken. Firing a powerful unibeam is one thing, but if Howard was mobbed and covered in undead all actively moving and tugging and pounding at him, and Corpse was steadily backing up, I don't understand how Howard's aim was so pinpoint like that.

But even ignoring that, how is one supposed to respond to something aimed with pinpoint accuracy and unquestionably impressive power at impossible to follow speed? That seems like a bit much.

Edited by .:Advent Aeternale:., Jan 14 2013 - 02:13 AM.

0

"He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster. And when you gaze long into an abyss the abyss also gazes into you."

OOC: Hey, sorry for absence again, I'll do my best honestly to come back, but I'm currently waiting for my RP to be approved. Once it is, and its in full swing I'll return. Sorry.

0

"Literature adds to reality, it does not simply describe it. It enriches the necessary competencies that daily life requires and provides; and in this respect, it irrigates the deserts that our lives have already become,"-C.S. Lewis

[font="'courier new', courier, monospace;"]OOCReduced the time on Wallace to 4 hours, because of RPG time wackiness and because forty-eight evenly divides by four. Am I good to go now?[/font]

0

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"In short, my English Lit friend, living in a mental world of absolute rights and wrongs, may be imagining that because all theories are wrong, the earth may be thought spherical now, but cubical next century, and a hollow icosahedron the next, and a doughnut shape the one after." -Isaac Asimov, responding to a letter he had received saying that scientific certainty was false, The Relativity of Wrong

[font="'courier new', courier, monospace;"]So I'd like to join in on this insanity.[/font]

[font="'courier new', courier, monospace;"]Name: Kenneth Wallace.Codename: None.Age: 28.Gender: Male.Faction: None at this time.Power(S): Technically he's a sorcerer, and thus capable of great feats, but in reality his skillset is limited. His primarily skill set is shapeshifting, derived from his books and studies. Because of general lack of know-how and experience though, it tends to be rather limited. To start with, he can only change animate objects (as in, no shapeshifting rocks). Going on from there, he can't make absolutely drastic changes. To give an example, he can turn a person into a bear, but not into a newt. A further limitation is that his shapeshifting only lasts for 4 hours; afterwards, there's a 4 hour cooldown on his subject/victim. He can shapeshift others, but only with direct physical contact.Appearance: A well built man in his late twenties, he's what you'd expect out of someone who has to carry around books all day. Fit, though not exceptionally buff. He's got those Scottish looks, with well kept two inch hair and blue eyes. He stands at the average height of his time at 5'8".Weapons: Carries a quarterstaff and short sword, the quarterstaff being the one he's received the most training in.Skills: He's a fairly good expert at the art of smacking people with a very large stick, also known as a quarterstaff. Also, due to his history, he's a pretty good academic, being knowledgable in the limited sciences of his time.Personality: Somewhat aloof and apathetic, though has his fair share of silly and serious moments.Weakness: The fact that he's ultimately a scribe that can do fancy magic tricks, and is a newcomer to this day and age. He's not a warrior, he's a guy you tell to write letters for you.Bio: Kenneth began his life as a young farm boy in Northern Scotland, circa ~1000 AD, tending to those all important sheep and such. Thankfully for him, his life wasn't doomed to this boring existence, as one day a scholar was traveling through the local village and found the young farm boy to be a surprisingly good apprentice. After some paperwork and money was thrown about Kenneth was off to the exciting world of a scholar.[/font]

[font="'courier new', courier, monospace;"]This, of course, ended with him finding out how existence could get even more dull and boring. The next fifteen years of his life was punctuated with writing an awful lot of letters and working on his penmanship. Along the way of course he was taught about the universe and its inner-workings, to the best understanding of that day. After those dull years his life finally started to look up though. His teacher finally revealed to him after deeming him worthy that magic was indeed a physical construct in the world, and gave him a few pieces of parchment to work off of. In the next three years he became skilled in his chosen art, shapeshifting, though he knew that he had quite a ways to go.[/font]

[font="'courier new', courier, monospace;"]The events that bring him to our modern day are surprisingly simple. The Vikings were invading and marauding, and his master was killed while out purchasing some supplies. While not precisely enraged, this rather deeply wounded Kenneth, so he sought for months to find a way to stop the Vikings with magic. He finally came across a powerful spell in his master's books, and attempted to use it on a beach as the Viking ships approached one day. This ended terribly for the man, because he had no idea what he was doing. This particular spell though interacted with a spell of another, a sorceress from a time older than his. They merged, tossing him into the panic in space-time she had caused, and got spat out into this strange and unfamiliar world.[/font]

[font="'courier new', courier, monospace;"]I am in need of a second approval on this peep.[/font]

0

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"In short, my English Lit friend, living in a mental world of absolute rights and wrongs, may be imagining that because all theories are wrong, the earth may be thought spherical now, but cubical next century, and a hollow icosahedron the next, and a doughnut shape the one after." -Isaac Asimov, responding to a letter he had received saying that scientific certainty was false, The Relativity of Wrong

[font="'courier new', courier, monospace;"]OOCReduced the time on Wallace to 4 hours, because of RPG time wackiness and because forty-eight evenly divides by four. Am I good to go now?[/font]

***

OOC: Yeah you're good.

OOC: Rather than respond in a rather improbable or unfair manner in character, I'll simply ask if there's another way the course of action I am to respond to can be taken. Firing a powerful unibeam is one thing, but if Howard was mobbed and covered in undead all actively moving and tugging and pounding at him, and Corpse was steadily backing up, I don't understand how Howard's aim was so pinpoint like that.

But even ignoring that, how is one supposed to respond to something aimed with pinpoint accuracy and unquestionably impressive power at impossible to follow speed? That seems like a bit much.

OOC: I wouldn't say it was pinpoint, more like just in Corpse's general direction. It is a rather big beam. I was specifically using this in case you need a reference.

And yeah the power is impressive, but it isn't something Howard can use repeatedly, as it drains a huge chunk of power and leaves him rather helpless for a few moments afterwards. As for the impossible to follow speed, I actually meant to say nearly impossible or really fast, but I wrote that in the middle of the night and so I made a slight error, that's my bad. Also it's entirely possible that Corpse would notice Howard's charging up and react before the beam is even fired and be able to escape most of the blast that way.

[font="'courier new', courier, monospace;"]As if space time hadn't taken enough abuse yet, mere seconds after the sword and sandal sorceress fell out of her botched spell another more modern sorcerer followed. Describing the exact details is pointless because of the lack of words to properly convey, but suffice to say a not-so-fearless Scot was deposited rudely onto the floor. He coughed and wheezed for a little bit, the wind obviously knocked out of him, and after a few more pitiful seconds, stood, using a quarterstaff to brace himself. Brushing his cloak off and redoing his strings, he glanced around him, not entirely sure what had happened, but it certainly wasn't good.[/font]

[font="'courier new', courier, monospace;"]Noticing a young woman next to him, he frowned. "You," he said, not in any modern tongue but rather an ancient Gaelic dialect. "What's going on?"[/font]

0

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"In short, my English Lit friend, living in a mental world of absolute rights and wrongs, may be imagining that because all theories are wrong, the earth may be thought spherical now, but cubical next century, and a hollow icosahedron the next, and a doughnut shape the one after." -Isaac Asimov, responding to a letter he had received saying that scientific certainty was false, The Relativity of Wrong

OOC: Silver Serpent still needs a second approval, I already have Flex's.

OOC: Here is a new profile for approval:

Name: Susan PlestheticCodename: Silver Serpent.Age: 17.Gender: Female.Faction: X-Men eventually.Power(S): Susan has complete control over a synthetic, self-replicating, silvery blue tinted, clear sentient liquid called Biohesive. This liquid can alter its own density and texture to mimic many different substances including flesh, bone and all other living tissue, it can even use D.N.A. as a template. This means it can heal wounds, clone and replace people’s limbs, or even make complete clones of others including a small portion of their powers. Her powers also make her immune to most diseases and in perfect health. Realistic clones take about a day to create and they are almost a perfect copy except for their personality as they are still controlled by the sentient Biohesive. Quickie clones take a few minutes to create but splat when hit with a solid strike like a bullet or really strong punch, they are also controlled by the sentient Biohesive. Biohesive can also crystallize make crystal structures approaching the hardness of diamond. Susan often forms serpent like shapes out of Biohesive to grab things or wrap people up then she crystallizes the serpents to make sure they can’t escape. An interesting note is that because of the unique origins of her powers they can’t be shut off by the normal means because Biohesive can do all this by itself, so a power disabling collar will only stop her from creating it not controlling it. She can also make the Biohesive decompose into water no matter what form it's in to prevent anyone else from getting their hands on it.Appearance: Susan is fairly tall, has shoulder length silver hair, metallic blue eyes, and is fairly pretty. She wears a silvery grey t-shirt and black pants. In costume she wears a form-fitting black jumpsuit with two silver snakes wrapping around her with their tails at her feet and their heads resting on her shoulders and two silver wings on her back making her look like a Caduceus, she also has two more snake patterns on each one of her arms with their tails at her shoulders and their heads at her hands. Her costume is also made from Biohesive.Weapons: Whatever she makes out of Biohesive, but she prefers a whip-staff that she can make hard like a staff or flexible like a whip.Skills: Susan is very knowledgeable how the human body works and how to fix it. She is very good at controlling her powers as a result of the Biohesive training her, although it still has faster reflexes and will sometime react before she does. She has been training with her whip-staff but not for very long. She is also very agile and in good physical condition.Personality: Susan is a little naive as a result of living most of her life in an orphanage or a lab and she is very curious, the Biohesive is also very curious but is a little more wary then Susan but both don’t like to see people hurt and will try their best to help them, because of this they don’t like fighting but because the Biohesive has a strong preservation instinct she often lets it lead if they have to fight. The Biohesive thinks of Susan as its daughter because it made her what she is, and she thinks of it as her father because he teaches her and protects her. They can communicate telepathically with each other and she sometimes seems hesitant when in reality she is just talking with the Biohesive. They are both deathly afraid of being captured and Susan will sometimes freak out if she thinks she is being imprisoned.Weakness: She is not a fighter and dislikes hurting people so she will try to use her powers to stop and capture people instead of injuring them, however if she thinks they are going to capture and experiment on her she will sometimes freak and begin lashing out at everyone even her friends. Her curiosity will sometimes get her into trouble.Bio: Susan was an orphan and at a young age she was taken by a lab for human testing of various drugs, she stayed there until she was 16 and then the scientists invented Biohesive which cured her of all the side effects of the other drugs they tested on her, however the Biohesive became sentient and started talking to her and they agreed to help each other escape since neither one of them wanted to be tested on forever and the Biohesive wanted to see the world, so she got some hair from one of the scientists and the Biohesive used it to create a clone of the scientist with Susan inside of it and they escaped from the lab found the Biohesive had fused with Susan so it decided to adopt her and she was thrilled since it had helped her more then anyone else ever had. They made their way across the country keeping ahead of the law and the scientists, who said she stole their property, but the Biohesive trained her to use her new powers and she stayed free and helped people whenever she could. She traveled for several months before coming to New York on Christmas eve.

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"I once thought that I was the only one who fantasized about Bionicle; that no one else could have that little of a life.

OOC Basilisk, Humva, which condominium are Kenneth and Lucia dropping into? Jace's, Peter's, or some other random condo?Also, has the whole Pantheon team been evacuated?Finally, I forgot about this when I was making the character, but since Peter Tyrell traveled back in time while at work, would it be okay if he had a few future items? (Future cell phone, future watch, basically future versions of stuff normal people carry around everyday. Including a hologram projector hidden in a ring.)IC RageChristmas Day, alone. Sitting in front of the tv, Carter watched the christmas special, a sad look on his face. "Five Christmases without them," he thought. If only his friends and family were here. But those days were gone now, as were the people he had known all of his life. Dead and gone...

"In short, my English Lit friend, living in a mental world of absolute rights and wrongs, may be imagining that because all theories are wrong, the earth may be thought spherical now, but cubical next century, and a hollow icosahedron the next, and a doughnut shape the one after." -Isaac Asimov, responding to a letter he had received saying that scientific certainty was false, The Relativity of Wrong

The only response the misplaced scot would get was a low groan as the roman came to. Lucia had truly never felt worse in her life. Granted, that time she and that priestess had decided that mixing some of that desert herb into their wine was intelligent idea came close. This was less of a burning sensation and more of hurled off a mountain level however. As she sluggishly pondered this, it all came rushing back to her in one solid blow. The legion. Her family. The screaming and sound of fire in the next room over...

Edited by Basilisk, Jan 14 2013 - 04:30 PM.

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"Shall this great kingdom, that has survived, whole and entire, the Danish depredations, the Scottish inroads, and the Norman conquest; that has stood the threatened invasion of the Spanish Armada, now fall prostrate before the House of Bourbon? Surely, my Lords, this nation is no longer what it was! Shall a people, that seventeen years ago was the terror of the world, now stoop so low as to tell its ancient inveterate enemy, take all we have, only give us peace? It is impossible! ...My Lords, any state is better than despair. Let us at least make one effort; and if we must fall, let us fall like men!"

-William Pitt the Elder, before suffering a fatal stroke on the floor of the House of Lords.

[font="'courier new', courier, monospace;"]Kenneth hadn't taken such a nasty trip, unless you counted the unceremonious dumping at the end. Thanks to this he was able to look the young woman over, somewhat confused as to why she seemed so distant. Of course, everything was confusing him. This building was confusing, his arrival here was confusing... one moment he was attempting to summon demons to destroy the invaders, the next he was here. Lovely day so far.[/font]

"In short, my English Lit friend, living in a mental world of absolute rights and wrongs, may be imagining that because all theories are wrong, the earth may be thought spherical now, but cubical next century, and a hollow icosahedron the next, and a doughnut shape the one after." -Isaac Asimov, responding to a letter he had received saying that scientific certainty was false, The Relativity of Wrong

[color=#006400;]IC: Malik (Las Vegas)[/color] [color=#006400;]It had been months now since Malik had first made the decision to leave the Mansion, he had never really fit in there. Not to mention his heavy disagreements with some of their policies especially those of the Ultimates. In fact he had never returned to the Mansion after that mission. The way he saw it, he had been much better off on his own. [/color] [color=#b22222;]I warned you, The demon in his head seemed rather pleased by all these developments, much to Malik's dismay.[/color] [color=#006400;]Please just shut up, I get it I was wrong, you were right, can we move on. We came here for a reason you know. This seemed to silence Azazel, and so Malik continued on his way. Like he had told Azazel, he did indeed have a reason. He was tracking down a prankster who had apparently been traumatizing people across the nation. Normally this wouldn't have made much of an incentive, but Malik believed the prankster to be a Mutant, and wanted to see just who this person was. His search had led him to Vegas, where he had rented a room for a night.[/color] [color=#006400;]Opening his eyes, Malik had his first glimpse of just how weird this day was going to turn out. Scattered around his rooms were tufts of grass that seemed to be leading out of his door. Who had put them their and why was beyond his knowledge.[/color] [color=#006400;]Getting up out of the bed, making sure to grab his equipment, Malik began following the grass out of his room, into the hallway and to the room across his. The door of the room was slightly ajar, allowing Malik to slip into the room to whatever madness may await. And madness it was. Scattered throughout the room were more pieces of grass. A torn up men's shoe lay in the corner of the room, and milk seemed to spilled about. Malik couldn't help but feel for the poor room service staff. They should be able to charge extra for this mess.[/color] [color=#006400;]However the center of the room contained even more chaos, a deer stood surrounded by milk cartons. Cartons that appeared to be arranged for some sort of demonic ritual[/color]. [color=#b22222;]For me, how sweet[/color][color=#006400;]. Poor Malik was left with merely one option.[/color] [color=#006400;]A facepalm, causing him to fail to notice the girl standing behind him.[/color]

[color=#000080;]"Don't worry, I think I'll be able to convince him to borrow your memories, just for a bit," Christopher said, a wolfish grin spreading across his face, "I'll be back in a bit, I just need to grab him..."[/color]

[color=#000080;]With that, he stood up and headed back downstairs, looking around for his double.[/color]

[color=#000080;]He found him, [/color][color=#0000ff;]sitting in one of the rooms downstairs, holding his arm up to his nose, trying to block the smell of strong coffee (It WAS really strong though), and saying to Tyrone, "That smells way too bad!"[/color]

[color=#000080;]Ignoring the awful grammar of his statement, Christopher strode over to the alternate version of himself, and quickly grabbed his left upper arm. Pulling him out of his seat, and dragging him across the floor.[/color]

[color=#000080;]"Don't worry!" He called back to the people who were in the room who probably had mixed expressions of surprise, horror, or amusement, "It's for his own good!"[/color]

[color=#0000ff;]Chris on the other hand, wasn't too happy at being dragged by his arm, and was using his right arm to try and pry Christopher's fingers away.[/color]

[color=#0000ff;]"Let go!" He snarled, trying to reach out an touch Christopher's bare hand...[/color]

[color=#0000ff;]Only to find Christopher's hand in his face a split-second later.[/color]

[color=#000080;]Once Chris was unconscious (and not dead), Christopher picked him up, and slung him over his back.[/color]

[color=#000080;]It was much easier this way anyway. He didn't really want to drag him all the way up the stairs. In a few minutes time, he re-entered Christine's room, dropping Chris on her bed.[/color]

[color=#000080;]"Sorry about that," He said, taking note of the surprise on Christine's face, "He's not dead. I only knocked him unconscious. He should come around in a bit..."[/color]

IC: NPC SHEILD Medics:

Several SHIELD Medical Officers rushed out to meet the returning Pantheon team, taking Will from him and placing him carefully upon a stretcher, before rushing off to the medical ward of the Helicarrier.

One of the Medics veered off from the others inside the Helicarrier, heading to an isolated part of the Helicarrier. The Medic whipped out his phone, and typed in a number.

A few seconds later, the person on the other end, a lady, picked up, [color=#000000;]"Yes?"[/color]

"Yeah, I'm sorry about missing your call," The medic said, glancing over his shoulder, "But something's come up, and I'll be able to talk with you later hon."

[color=#000000;]"It's alright, I'm sure we'll be able to talk... Later," Rapture said, lying back on the couch, holding the phone up to her ear, "When you get the chance, call me back."[/color]

"Thanks, bye."

[color=#000000;]The tone sounded for a second before Rapture snapped the cell-phone shut, and tossed it to the Asgardian that was with her in the Russell's home. On the Helicarrier, the Medic rejoined his comrades, citing another patient as his reason for delay.[/color]

[color=#000000;]No one suspected anything, which was the way she wanted it.[/color]

[color=#000000;]"I wished we would be able to greet the good X-Men, but somethings come up. Time to see what new vehicle we can hijack today," Rapture said, quickly standing up.[/color]